Discord and the Fight for Pot Liberation
by asheniel
Summary: A very twisted fic involving the twisted members of the Brotherhood and their sexy habits.
1. Default Chapter

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Synopsis – a very silly story with no point. It's not meant to offend and I'm very very sorry if it does.

Lance Alvers couldn't believe what he had just heard. "You're—what?"

"You heard me," Todd replied simply. "You don't have to shout. It won't change anything."

"I just—what the—how long has this been going on for?"

"Who knows? You don't know what it's like, Lance. You lose track of time after a while."

"Yeah, but..." Lance glared at Todd. "You could have told me. I—what did you think I would have done?"

"What you're doing now," Todd answered solemnly. "Sit down, Lance. I knew this would be hard."

"Yeah, that's kind of an understatement," Lance said sarcastically, but sat down anyway. "What I want to know is—" he cut himself off midsentence as Todd started stroking his knee.

"It's all right, Lance," the younger boy said soothingly. "It's hard, but we have to help each other. Be strong."

"Oh..." Lance mumbled, his face turning red. "But you're making me uncomfortable."

"It's all about coming to terms," Todd said very quietly, and the stroking continued. "Meanwhile, I've asked—I've asked her to move in with us."

"What?!"

"And I've asked Summers as well. We both agreed that you would need someone to take your mind off of things. Scott is very good at things like that, you know. Did you know that he's a massotherapist on the side?"

"No...I don't think I needed to..."

"All the same, he's _very_ specialized, you should see some of the stuff he can do, very good for the body, as well as the soul."

"Oh."

"And by the way, Pietro has decided to come out."

"Huh?"

"He's recently converted to a Zen monk, and he'll be traveling to Tibet to have his head shaved and to receive his orange toga. It's very exciting, I'm sorry we haven't told you, but you seemed so preoccupied..."

"Oh...I see," Lance managed.

"And Fred is moving out."

Lance couldn't even try to be surprised anymore. "Er...why?"

"Well, he's opening his own grassroots aerobics center. They'll be campaigning for peace while doing high-steps and wearing leg warmers. I think it's good for him."

"Ah."

"Meanwhile, I myself will be preoccupied with my new—relationship—and we're even hoping to have children. I was going to ask you to be my maid of honor...but if that would make you uncomfortable..."

"But I'm a man!"

Todd shook his head sadly. "That's what you think. But judging by your inability to get that Kitty Pryde to fuck you, it's incontestable. You are officially a woman, we'll just have to work on it. In the meantime, though, you should buy a more feminine swimsuit. We don't want anyone to think you're a cross-dresser."

"But...I..." Lance was thoroughly confused.

"I have also enlisted you in the Cult of Free Weed, Division: Pass the Joint. Can you imagine? Admission was only fifty cents!"

"Why?"

Todd ignored him, and continued stroking Lance's left knee. "They hold political rallies and march for the liberation of the Fern. Also, at the end of each year, they hold dance-offs. I thought I could get you into that bad little jumpsuit you always used to wear and do your special mambo. That is, if you're up to it...it's a difficult transition, dear. I'm here for you."

"This is—insane!" Lance shouted, finally jumping to his feet. "It's bad enough that you—you—you and Kitty have been sleeping together for who knows how long, and you signed me up for a cult, and Summers is gonna come live with us—"

"Oh, Lance, don't be dramatic. I swear, me and the cat have been very good, totally not promiscuous, we promised each other when we met to take things slow..."

"Her name is Kitty, not 'the cat.'" Lance said indignantly. "And she's still my girlfriend, so you can just...you better not have been fooling around."

"Kitty? Kitty Pryde?" Todd looked perplexed.

"No, Todd, the other one," Lance said, annoyed.

"Oh, good, because if you thought it was Kitty _Pryde_..." Todd looked relieved. "It would be a complete misunderstanding."

"What?"

"Huh?"

"Kitty Pryde?"

"Meow!"

"Kitty Pryde?"

"Meow!"

"What's going on??" 

"What do you mean?" Todd asked innocently, purring to himself. 

"What other Kitty is there?"

"My fiancee?"

"Kitty is your fiancee?"

"No, the other one."

"Todd, now is not the time to be sarcastic."

"But Kitty is my fiancee!"

"But—"

"Lance, I love her!" Todd cried passionately. "And you will not stand in our way!"

"But is it _my _Kitty, or some other Kitty Pryde—"

Todd fixed Lance with a grave stare. "Each human is his own, and to each, henceforth, a new light in day. A dapple of crimson, a flourish of gold; alas, my heart is born through thine glowing love." He smiled sadly. "A wise man he is, Professor Xavier."

"Yeah..." Lance shivered. He wondered if he should have used that line on Kitty in the first place. No wonder the bald guy always looked so cocky...

"Oh, there she is!" Todd shouted dramatically, flinging out his arms and rushing for someone behind Lance. "Lance, meet the love of my life and my fiancee, Kitty!"

Lance spun his head to look, but just then Pietro ran into the room, wearing nothing but a pair of purple spankies. 

"Pietro!" Lance cried, scandalized.

"Oh Lance, there's been a change of plans, the orange togas are on back order," Pietro explained hurriedly. "Meanwhile, I have to be spiritually cleansed and ready when they come in. Don't mind me, I'm trying to follow the Eightfold Path!"

"Let me help you," Todd said brightly. "Kitty, darling, you rest on the couch. I'll be right back." He leaped across the room and removed a brightly packaged box from a shelf. "Eightfold Path: the board game."

"Ooh!" Pietro squealed. "Todd, you didn't have to!"

"But I wanted to," Todd said wisely. "Have fun, and don't eat any of the small pieces. I know you get excited."

Lance shook his head and turned his head again to sneak a glance at Todd's fiancee, but he was distracted by a loud banging on the door. 

"I'll get it!" Pietro shrieked, flouncing away. The back of his spankies read 'CHEER! ENLIGHTENMENT IS HERE!" with a picture of a Buddhist monk wielding a pair of pom poms on them. He opened the door, and Lance could hardly believe his eyes. There was Scott Summers. Lance's jaw dropped. It was practically sinful, Scott's attire...

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to be continued...


	2. untitled bastard

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Authors Notes – wellllll I should say that this is getting way raunchy, but its all in good fun so roll with it, or don't, whichever you prefer......again, not meant to offend, some obvious rip offs, and much other craziness.

Lance blinked and prayed for death with such deep devotion that he had a hot flash and saw the gates to heaven for a split second. 

"Lance!" Scott rushed forward as the dark-haired boy swooned and fell like a block of wood. "Lance! Please wake up!" 

Lance never wanted to wake up ever again, but he opened his eyes anyway. "Oh, fuck me, Summers."

Scott looked tempted, but he was never a guy that liked an audience. "Later, I promise," he said with rapt desire in his eyes.

Lance realized what he had (accidentally) said. At least, he tried to convince himself it was accidental... "Fuck YOU Summers! Get off me!"

Scott reluctantly released Lance and stood up. Lance immediately shuddered and shielded his eyes. 

"You look like a..." He shivered again. "Something very sick. Please never do that to me again."

"Do what?" Scott asked, quite hurt and bewildered. He was wearing red and white striped knee high camping socks and hunting boots, and a maple leaf was taped to his 'little helper.' He had thought that his outfit was so creative...clearly, Lance preferred the more traditional look? "I'm sorry." He said, admonished.

Lance stared. "Apology not accepted. Now go wear something."

Scott shuffled away sadly.

Lance watched him go. The truth was, he found Scott's outfit weirdly hot in a kinky huntsman/logger type of way...all he needed was a nice shoot of barley between his teeth and he would be such a hunk. Then, horrified at his thoughts, Lance turned back to Todd and tried to get all images of Scott out of his head. "Er...so..."

"Ooh, did you know, you have your first meeting for Free Weed in ten minutes! Silly me!" Todd snapped his fingers and a mob of people came crashing through the ceiling on mopeds.

"Duck!" Lance screamed.

"No ducks," Todd said, looking around. He pointed to the weedy looking man that approached them. He was wearing a crown of marijuana leaves on his head and bell bottoms. "Hey, this is coo, where's the newest freedom fighter?" he asked, taking a long drag on his enormous joint. It was at least a foot long.

Todd shoved Lance forward. "Here he is!"

The man looked turned on. "I'm the king. You can address me as Master, but I'll let it slip if you call me something else once in a while." He winked, and Lance felt violated.

"Chizzo my nizzo, I thought this was anarchy!" A surly looking boy with a unibrow said, stomping his foot. "This is sick you bitch, I won't stand for it if we're gonna be having masters and kings and all that! It hinders my creativity, and I won't stand for it, I tell you!" Then he leaped onto his moped and rode off, sobbing.

Lance was thinking of running away as well when a tall slim sexy woman appeared behind Master and eyed Lance in a provocative manner. "The name's Summer," she said in a throaty voice. "Summer Scotts."

Lance was confused but it didn't prevent him from being turned on anyway. "Okay," he said stupidly. 

"Now, on to the meeting!" Master shouted, looking obscenely jealous. He adjusted his crown of pot and closed his eyes. "Prayer time." Everyone in the group held hands, but there was a minor scuffle as people fought to hold Lance's hand. "Ahem," Master said, gripping Lance's hand like there was no tomorrow, "Heh-hum. Blessed be the first leaf, the second leaf, the third leaf, the stem, and the chlorophyll." He paused dramatically, his nostrils quivering with passion.

"This is totally offending me!" Pietro shouted in the background. 

"Oh, fuck you," Master replied. 

"That's against my religion!"

Just then, the door burst open and a bunch of pimped out fat men came in, looking ominous. "Where's the Toad?" One of them demanded.

"Um..." Lance looked around. Todd had been right behind him... "He was right behind me," he said honestly.

"If you weren't so fine, I'd think you were lying," the man replied.

Lance felt violated again and contemplated what to do next. The man with the cane looked very capable of deflowering a young boy like himself. Suddenly, someone yanked him backwards and through a conveniently located trapdoor in the floor.

Lance started to scream, then realized it was just Todd. "What're you doing? Where were you?"

"Shh!" Todd hissed. He was dressed like a ninja. "I have to admit something to you, Lance. I'm not who you think I am."

"Oh?"

"Yes..." Todd shook his head emotionally. "I'm really a member of the Dead Poets Society."

"What's that?"

Todd stared at him. "Poor, naive Lance. You'll understand when you get older."

Lance frowned. "Then who are those men?"

"Just die-hard fans of mine. I built this secret trapdoor because I knew something like this would happen someday."

"I see..." Lance nodded. "So what now?"

"We can never go back," Todd said sadly. "We'll have to start over...new lives, Lance. I'm sorry, I didn't know my involvement in the Dead Poets Society would affect you so deeply...I'm so sorry."

"Er...that's okay," Lance said, patting Todd on the shoulder awkwardly as a tear rolled down his cheek. 

"Good thing, because otherwise I would have to kill you," Todd said, looking relieved. "I really hoped it wouldn't come to that." He pulled a machine gun out of his back pocket and tossed it over his shoulder. "I guess I don't need this anymore." He smiled at Lance. "I really didn't want to lose you, friend."

"Oh...me neither," Lance said.

"Glad to hear it." Todd smiled broadly. "Now, we must journey for three days and three nights, henceforth, my love, Kitty will meet us in the bar of the Prancing Pornboy with further instructions. I entrust you with this." Todd shoved something small and metallic into Lance's fist. Lance opened his hand to see a small, glowing key.

"What is it?" He whispered, awed.

"A little something I owe Hugh Hefner," Todd said, cackling. "Now hide it...and remember, Frodo, the key wants to get back to its owner..."

"But my name's Lance," Lance said, puzzled.

"Oh, right, well, no need to get all defensive." Todd said huffily. "Now hide the key, for god's sake. And remember...to use the key for personal benefit...it would only lead to the end of the world, a clash of dark and good forces, a foul wind in the yonder..."

"Ooh, there's a picture here!" Lance cried, excited.

"That happens when its master is feeling especially angry or horny," Todd explained sagely. 

"...What is it? It's gone now..." Lance sighed, disappointed. "I could have sworn it was a rabbit."

Todd shook his head. "Alas, if our problems started and ended with such a bantam creature..." 

Lance, who wasn't listening, studied the key. "So what do you use this key for, anyway?"

Todd looked pissed off. "Forget it, just keep your pants on."

Lance shrugged and followed his friend down the tunnel. There was a creature following them, however...a creature that wore red glasses and little else...

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to be continued...


	3. untitled bastard, jr

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Authors Notes – well, this continues to make little to no sense, annndddd mm Voltaire gets credit for Pangloss and Hugh Hefner gets his own credit just for being himself. Do not read if drug use, shrooms especially, offend you when used in an unintelligent matter that undermines their real-life destructiveness. Enjoy.

"Are we almost there?" Lance implored in a weary tone.

"Yep, we're getting there," Todd said cheerfully. "Good thing, I was getting kind of tired of all this messing around...honestly, Lance, I didn't know you were that inexperienced. I mean, you took one look at it and started screaming...you think it was easy for me? I would rather have had anyone else do it to me...and you were hard to mount, _trust_ me."

Lance almost burst into tears at that one. It was a good thing he couldn't even feel the pain anymore. Todd was evil. That was all he could say. That and so much unsolicited bumping and grinding was hard on his body parts.

"Almost there?" He asked again in a harried tone.

"Almost," Todd said consolingly. "Just a little further—there, I see it!"

"Good." Lance dropped the babooshka in which he had been carrying Todd on his back for the past four hours. He couldn't even stand up straight anymore.

"Hey...that hurt," Todd said bitterly from the ground. "Am I that fat? Haven't you ever carried anything before?"

"Not for four hours I haven't," Lance replied aggressively, "and can't you ever stay still? Do you have to bounce all the time? I think I'm..." He attempted to stretch his back. "...permanently deformed."

"Well, that works out for the better, because that'll make you less appealing to the Bunny Wraiths." 

"The what?"

"Oh, you'll see," Todd said dismissively, "but just watch your back."

They reached the town of the Prancing Pornboy, which was undoubtedly a creepy place filled with dark alleys and large, aggressive looking men and women, both possessing beards and body odor.

"Here it is..." Todd said quietly, pulling Lance into a slimy looking building with flashing displays of prancing porn boys all over it. 

"Who're we meeting here?" Lance asked nervously as a large, abusive looking woman with an exceptionally bushy beard eyed him suggestively. 

"Kitty." Todd was straining his neck, scanning the crowd. "She was supposed to meet us here..."

"Oh Todd! Lance!" 

Both Todd and Lance looked up in surprise to see a small boy with no hair and an orange toga flouncing toward them. 

"Um...hi," Lance said suspiciously. The little boy was gazing at the both of them with rapture in his eyes.

"_Pietro_? Is that you?" Todd demanded incredulously, looking severely turned on. "What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" The boy asked innocently, blinking.

"I mean, you—you're seven!"

The boy nodded solemnly. "I am simply what Fate allows me to be, nothing more, nothing less."

Lance and Todd exchanged looks.

"Whatever," Todd replied finally. "Just stay away from me. I can't afford to be turned on."

"Ah, do not try to control your life!" Pietro laughed heartily, and moved closer. "You see? All is good, we are living in the best of all worlds, and every single thing that occurs and will occur was meant to serve the greater good; each individual's error will contribute to the welfare of all."

"What?" Todd demanded, irritated. "Go away. Where the hell is Kitty?"

"Kitty?" Pietro asked, his eyes gleaming complacently as he moved closer still, "Fate has not allowed her to be here."

"What?" 

"The force of universal benefit directed her soul into peril so that it could foster its own growth."

Todd opened his mouth to retort, but just then, the abusive looking fat woman snatched Lance away and started to run.

"Help!" He screamed.

"Get back here!" Todd shouted nobly, hurdling a table of men and racing after the kidnapper and her victim. He made it as far as the door when Pietro grabbed him by the arm and proved to him that the Prancing Pornboy existed merely so that Lance could be kidnapped there and that they lived in the best of all worlds, all was well.

"Oh fuck you," Todd said angrily, but stopped anyway. Besides, if that was true, then it gave him the perfect excuse for cheating on Kitty...after all, it was meant to serve the greater good, wasn't it? He cackled evilly, because he was justified now. Suddenly he didn't really care about Lance. After all, his being taken away, possibly raped and beaten and murdered, well, it wasn't like there was anything he could do about it, and besides, who was he to interfere with the good of the greater population?

"I knew you'd see it my way," Pietro said when they hooked up for the first time, which happened to be right in the Prancing Pornboy after Lance and his kidnapper disappeared into the horizon. 

"Yeah, well, I'm just trying to help," Todd replied bravely. "You know, can't bring everyone else down just 'cause of insignificant little Lance..."

Pietro nodded, laughed wisely, and mutated into Jean Grey.

"Huh? Pietro?" Todd was confused.

"No, it's really Jean," she replied, shrugging. "I was just pretending to be Pietro."

"Why would you do a thing like that?"

"Because Scott left me for that avalanching bitch," she replied sadly. "I just wanted revenge and stuff. His being betrayed by his best friend and carried off in to the mountains by a man-chick is good enough, right?"

Todd gaped incredulously, feeling rather betrayed as well. "But—but—all is well," he sputtered. "What about the greater good?"

"Oh, that's my Pangloss personality," Jean said brightly. "I have multiple personalities: sweet, noble Jean Grey, philosophical, prophetic Pangloss, ravishing wildcat, sadistic beauty pageant bitch, and fried chicken."

Todd was speechless. What had he done? Just then, a shrill cry was heard, and Hugh Hefner entered the pub. Haggles of men and women immediately flocked around him, crying and begging for mercy. He ignored them; instead, approached Todd.

"Hello...Todd," he said sexily, though he was really old and had claws for fingers.

"Don't try it, I'm immune," Todd replied lazily.

Hugh sighed and trudged away, muttering something about tricky bitches and toads.

Jean watched him go with longing in her eyes. "Oh Todd, why'd you have to scare him away?" she said sadly. "Do you know how long I've wanted to get in that mansion of his?"

Todd neither knew nor cared and told her so. "No." Then he thought for a second, remembering that Jean was quite responsible for Lance's possible death. A tear rolled down his cheek like a crystal ocean sparkling under the rays of a glowing golden sun soaked in diamonds and splattered across the sky...

Jean looked at him funny as Todd started to sniffle bravely, but surprisingly, the two later made up through a brief fucking in a tree and resolved to find Lance together. That is, until Jean met a cute guy an hour later and left Todd. Several days later, decrepit and barefoot (the birds had eaten his shoes) he walked into a club called Shroomtown, rather downspirited and temporarily blinded by the neon signs of people eating shrooms and tea, ready to spend the rest of his money and life eating shrooms and hating the world as an embittered junkie. But who else did he see but a familiar brown haired boy with earth moving tendencies, holding a shroom in one hand and a cup of tea in the other...

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to be continued...


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